Words to Save and Break You
by NorthernTrash-x
Summary: Ritsuka/Soubi. He had always thought, 'don't blame it on me, blame it on the words'.


Inspired by the second stanza of Thomas Hardy's poem, 'Neutral Tones'

Using the song 'Words', by the Guillemots.

**Words to Break and Save You**

__

* * *

Words are never easy,  
Words are never true,

* * *

"Ritsuka, please do not be angry at me."

"I can only be angry at you!"

"Pleas-"

"I cannot believe that you would do that."

"I can only-"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear it!"

"Ritsuka, please-"

"I hate you, Soubi!"

Those words hurt them both, a lose-lose situation that neither of them could escape. Ritsuka could feel the bitterness in his mouth as he said it, bubbling anger and despair and the terrifying concept that a part of him really did hate Soubi, deep down, because he had rocked the very foundations of his world, changed everything he thought he understood into nothing more than… nothing more substantial than dust, hard rock destroyed to worthless, tiny pieces. Weak. Unsubstantiated. He did not know why he said it though, because he did not like to see the cold, hurt look in Soubi's eyes after they poured from his cold mouth. He closed his own eyes as he said it, trying not to see the reflection of pain. It was all too much, too complicated, too hard.

"Why are you so angry? Is it because you are worried?"

"I'm not worried, Soubi."

"Then why are you acting this way?"

"I…"

"Why are you worried, Ritsuka?"

"One day you might not come back."

"You know that I will never leave you."

He hated it when Soubi said that, because he knew that it could never be the definitive truth. One day Soubi might be torn out of his hold, be taken somewhere he could not follow, and that was a terrifying concept. He did not like the belief in Soubi's voice, that firm belief that had nothing to back it up, no security, because he knew that one day he would be bitterly disappointed. Ritsuka never knew what response he was supposed to give to that, because he simply could not say the same thing back to him. The intensity in Soubi's eyes scared him, because to Soubi that was the truth, pure and simple. Ritsuka found himself a little scared sometimes by that passion. He still was not sure if he could ever match it.

_

* * *

_

Words are never simple darling  
_When they're aimed at you_

* * *

"Can I hold you?"

"No, I'm not in the mood for this."

"For what?"

"For _this._ For it all. For you."

"Ritsuka… let me hold you, please?"

"Get away from me, Soubi."

And he didn't want to say it, but he always did. Ritsuka watched himself, detached from the truth of his feelings and the anger in his eyes, watched his words push Soubi further away from him, and because it was Soubi he did as he was told and left Ritsuka, leaving him feeling empty and lonely, and angry at himself for doing it and at Soubi for making him react the way that he did and for listening and obeying to commands that he _obviously_ did not mean. Why was he so compliant all the time, for heavens sake? Soubi always walked away when he told him to, and the fighter's warm, sad smile made him feel impossibly and painfully guilty. He did not deserve Soubi, and he knew it but the blonde couldn't see it, and that hurt most of all.

"Why do you push me away?"

"With me, you just seem to get injured."

"Are you concerned?"

"No. Annoyed."

"You know that it is all for you."

"How far would you go, Soubi, really?"

"I will die for you."

He couldn't simply explain the feeling he felt when he heard those words, because it was many rolled into a tight ball of raw, coiled emotion. Complete pain, because of the tension at waiting for the outcome, waiting for what could either be the ending of another battle or the ending of this chapter of Ritsuka's life and love, the ending of Soubi. Anger, because he didn't want to have that kind of control and inflict that kind of pain. Sorrow, because he knew that bloodshed was inevitable, either for Soubi or for the opponent, and he did not _want_ to fight anymore- it was pointless. Then there was fear, pure, cold fear. He was afraid that one day Soubi might not make it, that one day he would keep his promise and actually die in honour of Loveless, an honour and protection that Ritsuka did not want if it meant losing him.

_

* * *

_

Words are never gentle,  
_Words are never plain,_

* * *

"You two are sick."

"Why is that?"

"Do you not know what the problem is?"

"No."

"His name is Beloved."

Beloved, though, was not just Soubi, but Seimei too. And because of that it meant that Soubi would never have the same bond, the same emotions, the same raw understanding that he had with Ritsuka's brother. It was unfair, but Ritsuka could not alter the fact. Soubi was made to be loved, to love and to exist in a world of warmth that Ritsuka was simply unable, it seemed, to provide for him, regardless of how much the depth of his soul wanted to. But, if he and Soubi were meant for each other the way that his fighter claimed, then surely he should have been able to? Beloved was not his name. Sometimes that felt like the most unjust thing of all.

"So?"

"You honestly don't understand?"

"Evidently not."

"This is wrong."

"Why?"

"Your name is Loveless"

Nothing could have been a colder, crueller name to give him. It spoke of loneliness and heartache, sorrow and the darkness. Nothing soft, nothing warm, nothing comforting, and nothing too could be more fitting- he was a shard of ice, not melted by the warmth of friends or the love of a family that he did not have. Soubi was too different to ever be able to hold that tiny sliver close enough to melt it all away, and though he would not cease in trying, part of Ritsuka questioned whether he should bother at all. Loveless. Loveless. Loveless. Loveless. Loveless. The word echoed around his mind. He would always be alone.

"I am aware of that."

"You are Loveless, he is Beloved. Do you understand?"

"I understand exactly."

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"Of course it does."

"Why, then?"

"… I don't know."

There was something else, too. Those statements on name meant something more. It wasn't just that Soubi deserved to be 'beloved', and because he was 'loveless' he couldn't do it… no, it was something more, something worse. He was not the other half of Ritsuka, and the younger man knew that Soubi, because of that, could never complete him fully, the way a fighter was meant to, and he also knew that he could never complete Soubi, because he already had the other half to his soul, and that was not Ritsuka. And as hard as he tried that would never be him, because Soubi, Ritsuka was sure, had love, and he was without it, love-less.

_

* * *

_

Words are never what they think they are:  
_That's the problem with pain_

* * *

"We're not the same, you and I."

"I know."

"What does that mean?"

"I do not know."

"Soubi, you are useless."

That hurt Soubi the most out of anything that he could say, because the purpose of a fighter was to be of service, and if Soubi thought that he was not being so… then it cut deep into his own meaning, making him feel worthless. Ritsuka found himself torn. Part of him was pleased that Soubi would not look at him with those confident eyes like he could after any other mindless insult by Ritsuka, and part of him was just angry at himself for causing the fighter pain. It made little sense, but then again so did anything else in this strange, strange world Ritsuka had found himself in.

"Please do not say that."

"But it is true. You are pathetic."

"You can't think that."

"Maybe I do."

"Ritsuka, do you really hate me so?"

And Ritsuka could never answer that question, because a part of him did, and a part of him did not, and he did not want to acknowledge either part of those feelings for Soubi. He'd prefer to remain neutral, unattached, independently alone and not vulnerable to this… all of this baggage that seemed to come with Soubi. He could not accept that he did care for his fighter, cared for him more than any one or anything else, but he did not want to deny that fact it either. It was all too much of a mess, too much of a terrible Gordian knot of emotions that he could not uncover.

_

* * *

_

Words are never my own, try well as they might  
They break me into pieces, darling, from the greatest of heights

* * *

"Why are you so late?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mea-"

"My real son would have been in on time."

"Mother, please. I am your s-"

"You are not my son."

To be so completely disowned from what was supposed to be the warmth of family, the shelter in the storm, the haven of home, hurt him more than he ever let on to anyone else. To be denied and hurt by the ones meant to love you unconditionally only seemed to reinforce the message of his name. He was so worthless, so vile, so loveless that not even his own mother could admit to herself that she had created him, had raised him. There was nothing in the house anymore, no love, no laughter. Just an empty shell of what once was. It was like there was nothing left to anchor him to the world, no protection offered, no sanctuary. Except, perhaps, Soubi.

"She does not see me any more."

"Please do not cry, Ritsuka."

"I'm not crying."

"Please, stop. It hurts me to see you upset."

"You can't win every fight for me, Soubi."

"No?"

"No."

"But in failure I will die for you, Ritsuka."

Ritsuka turned away from that remark, because it was all too brutally honest to accept. And if he was going to be honest in turn, then, he was forced to admit, that if Soubi were to die for him, then there would be little of any worth left in his world. He could not imagine a world without his fighter, without their late night phone conversations or the way that he would brush Ritsuka's hair out of his eyes and lean so close that there was little space to move through until they were kissing again, warm and tender and all consuming in a way that Ritsuka knew he would miss if it were gone. He did not want Soubi to die. He could not be alone again. He could not be without him again.

_

* * *

_

I left you in the morning, when tears stained my smile  
I left you in the morning, darling, for a long, long while

* * *

"Are you struggling?"

"No."

"Can I-"

"No."

"Let me help you."

"I don't need you."

Some would say that being that fiercely independent was pointless when one had such a loyal servant at ones' side. It was not that he did not need help, or wanted to prove himself as being able to do it alone, it was closer to the point that he did not want to become reliant on Soubi, did not want to let him all of the way in. Soubi was, first and foremost, a warrior, and they sustained injury and could easily perish in battle. If he let him in all the way, and was then to lose him, then he would be left hollow and empty, alone, nothing but an insubstantial reminder in the mirror of the memories of better times behind his eyes.

"Why not?"

"I don't need anyone."

"Maybe you could just want one?"

"Too hard to do."

"Ritsuka, you have to trust me."

And it was so hard to do, because that was not something that Ritsuka found easy, or that Soubi was happy to be patient for, because he thought it should be something instinctive. But Ritsuka was sure that he was starting to trust the taller, older man more and more as time went on, regardless of whether he wanted to or not. Soubi kept asking him have faith in him, kept reassuring him that that was what he wanted, what he needed Ritsuka to do. It was an uncomfortable pressure at times, but for the most part this consistency gave him a goal, a reason, something that might make his world begin to make sense to the strange, lonely boy he still was inside. As long as he did not let him all the way in, then he could let him get a little closer.

* * *

_Yeah, I think life would be so much easier if they had no words  
Oh and I think life would be so much easier if they had no words_

_

* * *

_

"Ritsuka…"

At first, he couldn't understand all of the words, but soon Ritsuka realised that this was something that maybe he was allowed to believe in. With passing days, he began to realise that Soubi, strange, reliable Soubi was actually going to keep the promises that he made, or at least try to. His faith in life, in love, in the possibilities of both grew in the silence of his contemplation. Perhaps he was not alone. Perhaps he could hope.

And sometimes all he needed was the sound of his name whispered from Soubi's smiling mouth, and those ever inviting lips on his. All he needed was Soubi's voice, and then his painful memories of those he had lost and those who had hurt him faded away, and all there was the warmth of a kiss, the echo of his name, reminding him who he was.

The way that Soubi stole his breath away, how he managed to make Ritsuka feel happy inside in a way that no one else could. Perfection hidden in the confusion and the pain, made bearable by those moments of joy and amazement that he found when he let the fighter pull him close with his arms around his body, the glint in Soubi's eyes and the smile Ritsuka felt pulling at the corner of his mouth.

And the silence.

The all consuming, perfectly comfortable, wonderful silence as Soubi kissed him.

Just them, the quiet, and the way that Soubi broke him and brought him back together all at once.

* * *

_Don't blame it on me,  
Oh,  
Blame it on the words_

* * *

Umm... new style road for me. Not really sure how well it turned out, or if I over-used the lyrics. Crit/feedback would be more than welcome.

Thanks. NT-x


End file.
